


The Ultimate Emo Crossover Episode

by Aragorgeous



Category: Black Veil Brides, Stardew Valley (Video Game), Twilight (Movies)
Genre: Addiction, Alternative Sexuality, Alternative bands, Anal Sex, Awkward Conversations, Awkward Romance, Awkward Sexual Situations, Bad Boys, Bad Humor, Bands, Beach Sex, Beaches, Bedrooms, Black Veil Brides - Freeform, Black Veil Brides Army, Bottom Andy Biersack, Boys Being Boys, Boys In Love, Boys Kissing, Cross-Posted on Wattpad, Crossover, Crossovers & Fandom Fusions, Dark Comedy, Depression, Emo, F/M, Fanfiction, Fluff and Humor, Fluff and Smut, Friends to Lovers, Gay, Gay Character, Gay Male Character, Gay Sex, Goths, Humor, Idiots in Love, Inspired by Music, Knives, Leather Jackets, M/M, Mental Anguish, Mental Breakdown, Mental Health Issues, Mental Instability, Multiple Crossovers, One Night Stands, References to Depression, References to Drugs, Relationship(s), Self-Harm, Sexual Humor, Sexual Tension, Smoking, Twilight Parody, Twilight References, Unhealthy Coping Mechanisms, Unhealthy Relationships, Vampires, Video & Computer Games, Werewolves, quirky
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-09-29
Updated: 2020-11-24
Packaged: 2021-03-08 04:14:01
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 15
Words: 16,471
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26719615
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Aragorgeous/pseuds/Aragorgeous
Summary: "The problem is: we're both bottoms, dude. Fuck, how is this gonna work?"Andy Biersack, renowned emo and lead singer of Black Veil Brides, parts the seas in a homicidal rage and stumbles onto the shores of Stardew Valley, where he meets resident emo, Sebastian. Quickly, Andy's confidence dwindles when he notices the cameras are finally off him, realizing his emo-image is just that: an image. All the while, Elliot, writing prodigy and Fabio look-alike, observes on the beaches of Stardew Valley from his humble shack, taking notes on their almost immediate sexual intercourse, convinced Andy is the second coming of Christ. The boys eventually come to realize that they're living in a fanfiction by a rather pathetic girl that Andy rescued from Dahvie Vanity, and that their fate is completely in her hands--as well as the likes of Edward Cullen, which she randomly throws in.On their journey of self discovery and identity, they meet lots of other emos along the way, such as Jeffree Star and Hayley Williams. Falling in love with one another is never easy, but nothing's easier for the two than to fall in love with their own egos. Navigating through their own worlds, they figure out this emo thing--one step at a time.
Relationships: Andy Biersack/Ashley Purdy, Edward Cullen/Jacob Black/Andy Biersack/Sebastian (Stardew Valley), Jacob Black/Edward Cullen, Robin/Demetrius (Stardew Valley), Sebastian/Andy Biersack
Comments: 1
Kudos: 4





	1. Armageddon

**Author's Note:**

  * For [My 7th grade emo phase](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=My+7th+grade+emo+phase).



> You don't need to get all the references to enjoy!  
> If you for some reason enjoy, leave a comment! I'd love to know what you guys are thinking; if this shit got you through some rough times; if it made you feel nostalgic for YOUR 7th grade emo phase; if you know anyone personally like Sebastian and need help (Oh, did I know someone like Sebastian...), reach the fuck out! I'll respond to all comments. This is ongoing and updated rather frequently, so subscribe! The more people I know are reading, the more I'll update. Thanks :^) Stay cool.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Out for a nighttime smoke, Sebastian meets Andy Biersack of Black Veil Brides as he parts the sea and stumbles onto the shores of Stardew Valley, where they consummate almost immediately.

Sebastian slithers along the beach, switchblade OUT. He is afraid. He is paranoid anytime he leaves his mother's basement, but he mistakes this paranoia for bravery.

It is dusk. He is sooo addicted to nicotine--but his mother doesn't know. He has to come to the beach at late hours to make up for all the smoking he didn't do during the day.

He stands at the edge of the dock, and chain smokes 30 cigarettes in a row. He listens to Black Veil Brides through tinny airpods, filled with stale earwax. He flicks each cigarette into the ocean, not because he doesn't care about littering, but because he just really hates fish.

Especially crabs.

He had to suffer through that STD some years ago. He still doesn't understand that they weren't actual crabs though.

"Fuck you guys," he says into the abyss.

His hair is blown this way and that by the night wind. It frustrates him. "Ah!" he chirps, trying to hold down his locks, "Not the hair!!" He is flustered because he always must have at least one eye completely obscured by hair, even when he's the only one in the vicinity.

Or so he thinks.

The sea begins to part rapidly, and in shock, Sebastian falls backwards onto his rear. He scrambles backwards, confused. He is an atheist. This can't be happening.

The middle of the sandy floor is barren as all the sea critters gather back into the water on either side. It is still and eerie and totally level with Sebastian.

In the distance, he can see someone walking towards him. He gets bigger the closer he comes. Sebastian squints his one eye.

It is a man, and he walks like he owns the place--like he's just soooo goddamn cool. As he draws closer, Sebastian can hear the clanging of the buckles on his boots.

Is it...himself? He wonders. The hair is nearly identical, and he wears all black too. The only difference is his gait, which is way more confident, as well as his height, taller, his arms, more muscular...his lips, so full, his package, so--

It's Andy Biersack of Black Veil Brides.

"What are you doing here?" says Sebastian.

When Andy is close enough, he looks up at Sebastian from the floor. The water begins to collapse around him again.

"Watch out!" Sebastian yells.

Andy smirks. The water does not drown him, but propels him up because he can stand over top of it too. Now he is at the same level as the dock, and steps up onto it, Sebastian at his feet like a fucking dog.

"Silly boy," Andy says, "I can't die."

The ocean begins to move again as if nothing happened.

"What just happened?" Sebastian asks.

"I don't know what you're talking about."

"Are you gas-lighting me right now?"

"What's that?"

Sebastian is dumbfounded. "Are you kidding me?" He sighs, exhaling smoke even though he did not inhale any. He's just really addicted to nicotine right now. "Why did you come here?"

Andy looks philosophically into the distance. Sebastian follows his eye line and there is nothing there. "I don't know. Just like, really horny right now."

"Oh."

Andy puts a hand behind his head and flexes, moving his head towards Sebastian as he gets up, but looks beyond him instead of at him. He fixes his hair as if he's looking into a mirror. Again, there is nothing there.

"You know, you don't have to do this," Sebastian says hypocritically, "There's no cameras here. You can like...be yourself." As soon as he says that, though, he wonders if there are cameras, lurking behind bushes, watching them like two gazelles in heat.

Andy immediately slumps, his arms falling to his sides, his head hanging, like that was all he needed. "Goddamn...fame is hard, man..."

"I know."

"Huh?" Andy squints. "You famous too?"

Sebastian shrugs. A cigarette has appeared at some point between his fingers but we have no way of knowing when. "I mean, kinda. I am one of the Stardew Valley bachelors."

Andy retracts in shock. "Like, the video game? Are there fucking cameras here right now?" He is wildly looking around him, even behind him at the open ocean.

Sebastian frowns. "Nooo...dude, do you need one of these?" He flicks ash in Andy's face to bring him back to Earth.

"Where the fuck are we right now?" Andy grabs Sebastian's shoulders and puts his face four inches from his.

"Stardew Valley. Dude, fucking relax." Sebastian shoves him.

"What? Oh my god. There's no way out. The simulation. Jesus fucking christ."

Sebastian runs his fingers through his hair (but only one side because Andy CANNOT know that he has two eyes) and says more to himself than Andy, "How the fuck can you have a mental breakdown in Stardew Valley?"

Andy is panting.

Sebastian watches Andy for a while as he mutters lyrics to himself as a way to calm down.

"We stitch these wounds. Knives and pens. We are the fallen angels, yeah...fallen angels. This is a rebel love song...fuck, what is love?"

Sebastian rolls his eyes and says what he's been contemplating for the past few minutes. "I think those skinny jeans are what's making you so out of breath. Maybe you should take 'em off."

Andy lifts his head from his hands abruptly and stares at Sebastian for the first time. He is wildly offended.

Sebastian shrugs and takes another drag. "You said you were horny, bro."

Andy looks as if he's going to cry. "I'm a married man."

Sebastian flicks his cigarette into the ocean, only half finished, before lighting his 50th. "Oh please," he scoffs, "Don't act like you haven't fucked around with your band mates. Don't act like you haven't let all those fanfictions go to your head. Don't act like you haven't said, at least once, 'Well, if they think we're fucking, we might as well...'"

As Sebastian trailed off, he noticed Andy still staring at him in the same position, hands frozen in front of him, eyes wide. "That's not the problem here," he shakes his head slowly. "The problem is: we're both bottoms, dude. Fuck, how is this gonna work?"

"Good point," Sebastian says, still not really into the whole "sex" thing because he has literally no emotions, but doesn't see it as any different than standing around. "Do you mind if I smoke during it?"

"What?" Andy yells, still having a panic attack.

"Nothing, never mind. Can we talk about how you just parted the fucking sea now?"

"It's just like...the BVB army, man."

"Okay. I don't know what the fuck that's supposed to mean. Cool. Sorry--" Sebastian sighs, "I'm going through nicotine withdrawal right now. Sorry if I sound like a dick."

"It doesn't really look like you are." He watches as Sebastian brings three cigars up to his face, one to his lips, and two in his ears.

"I don't know what you're talking about."

"Hey, don't do that."

"What? Give you a taste of your own medicine?"

"You're being a dick."

"Have a cigarette already." Sebastian leans in and pulls a cigarette out from behind Andy's ear.

"You're peer pressuring me. My manager told me not to listen to--"

"Dude, you have fifty plus tattoos and you're telling me you've never smoked a fucking cigarette? Like, are you edgy or not?"

In a flash, Sebastian lights the cigarette, sticks it in Andy's mouth, then knees him in the gut so that he has no choice but to inhale. Instead, he gags so hard he swallows the whole thing.

"Shit. That wasn't supposed to happen. Come here." Sebastian arranges himself behind Andy, arms on his abdomen, and as Andy continues to hack and cough, Sebastian gives him the Heimlich maneuver.

Like a cartoon, the cigarette pops out, into the air, and Andy catches it back in his mouth. Bile drips steadily off of but it still manages to be lit. He inhales again.

"Man, this is...nice..." Instantly his panic ceases.

"They say smoking kills, but it's the only reason I'm still alive..."

Andy blows smoke out insightfully into the ocean. "They say smoking's bad, but the reason I smoke is worse," he says, as if he's been doing it for years.

They turn to look at each other.

"You're perfect."

"You're beautiful," they say simultaneously.

They both blush and look down. Andy lifts his eyes shyly before his head. "When...when you got behind me before to get that cigarette out of my esophagus..." he begins, "I...I think that could work."

Before they could blink, they were inside each other. Sebastian still stuck to his bottom roots and had to stick a particularly large cigar up his ass to turn himself on. Andy was really enjoying himself--too much, Sebastian worried.

"Can you..." he started, "Can you like...stop singing right now?"

"IN THE END, AS MY SOUL'S LAID TO REST WHAT IS LEFT OF MY BODY--oh yeah, sorry man."

Sebastian continues to pump away. "At least, maybe some more appropriate lyrics. Those ones make me feel like I'm doing a bad job."

"I don't know if I have any happy lyrics."

They are still inside each other. Sebastian hasn't had a cigarette in two minutes. He imagines Andy is a giant cigarillo in order to keep going and his asshole is hot embers.

"How about...'I'm just a poor boy nobody loves me...'"

"That's not exactly happy--HE'S JUST A POOR BOY FROM A POOR FAMILY..." Sebastian cannot help but get into it.

Soon they are going back and forth, taking turns each line, getting increasingly louder, singing their hearts out to the ocean, still humping, looking like they're descending into insanity.

And in the distance, on the ocean shore, outside of his shack, Elliott watches, jotting down notes, to remember all that was said in order to write it down later.


	2. Elliott's Wet Dream

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Elliott contemplates the anal he just witnessed on the beach.

Oho! You've caught me. I suppose I should introduce myself.

I live in a shack by the sea, but you must know that soon it will be a mansion, once my writing blows up.

The issue is that I cannot write something I haven't experienced. I recognize that I will never be able to fully understand something I haven't been through. The closest I can come to this, if not experiencing something, is to observe it.

And the second issue here is this is the very shit I plan to publish--and not because I planned to make a homosexual manifesto, but it looks as if I have no choice.

Nothing much tends to happen outside of my humble little shack, especially seeing as it points towards the ocean. This has been the only occurrence in years.

So that night, when I was writing at my desk, one lamp on, a hand through my hair, looking mighty insightful, I looked up at the roaring I heard out my window, to see the very sea itself parting!

I knew it would make one hell of a story--although, the rough anal towards the end of it took me by surprise. But, I was determined. I had to tell the story of Armageddon in Stardew Valley, a town where--pardon me--nothing really seems to happen.

Was this Jesus himself? I couldn't just let a story like this slip through my fingers. If this ended up being a big deal in the news, well, I just couldn't live with myself!

Although I never imagined Jesus having half bangs and face paint--not to mention he was a submissive! Oh, the controversy that would cause!

As I stepped back inside my shack after staring at the two making love (Oh, if you could only call it that), taking down every painstaking detail of the affair, I looked around the room.

It was no colder inside than out, seeing as it was heated by a single candle. Along with the lack of heat, was also a lack of a lavatory. The shit bucket remained out in the open--and since it was so cramped inside, it had no choice but to be a step away from the kitchen.

And I've mistaken that bucket for any old pot on many occasions! I'll say, it's exhausting spending hours on a decadent cherry pie only to bite into it and realize something isn't quite right. You don't want to start all over, so instead you add more sugar until the taste is disguised, and you eat away, anyway--your teeth in agony but your belly full.

Anyway, the point is I couldn't fucking live like this anymore. I needed the adventure; I needed the fresh air.

I needed the fucking money.

On that note, looking into my cabin, I immediately stepped back out again, a pull towards a new journey, a new experience in life! I would follow them around, unnoticed, and observe them like the animals they were.

As I turned back around to face them, they were in the process of orgasming, right at the breakdown of the song.

I could hear it now, in the ending credits of the movie my story would be turned into.

I dipped my pen into it's ink and described the orchestra of sounds that emanated from their simultaneous orgasm until the sun began to show.


	3. Filling the Infinite Void with Potato Chips

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Andy is amazed by Sebastian's natural emo abilities and self reflects on his own pretentiousness.

Sebastian asks Andy "Wanna come back to my place?" and off they go, back to Sebastian's mother's basement.

When he sits down at his desk, thinking he might fool around a bit on minesweeper while Andy settles down, he is gravely mistaken as Andy puts a gloved hand onto Sebastian's thigh and stares into his eyes.

Sebastian retracts. "Oh," he says, "When I said 'Wanna come back to my place,' I didn't mean 'Let's have sex again.' Jesus, dude. It's like 5AM."

"I'm just trying to fill the void inside me right now." Andy says darkly.

"Well, fuckin'," Sebastian grabs a bag from the floor next to him, throwing it at Andy, "fill it with some fucking potato chips. That's what people do when they're sad. They eat and get fat so that they have another excuse to not get out of bed."

Andy now moves his hand to Sebastian's shoulder and he flinches again. His eyes remain on Sebastian's, staring right into his soul. "It sounds like you've had experience."

"Don't do this right now," Sebastian flings up his arms, "I'm not one of your little thirteen year old 'Army' girls, man. I have my shit together." He stands up and starts rummaging around. He slams drawers and kicks items on the floor out of his way.

"Can you turn around? I have to get changed."

Andy frowns. "We just had sex."

"Yeah, well, I was behind you. You didn't see my ass."

Andy squints. "Okay?"

While he's turned, he gazes around the room. The bed is unmade, so severely that the blanket is half hanging out of the window. Three Nirvana posters hang on the walls at odd angles, like he just slapped them on when he put them up. A glass of milk sits on his night table, foaming and bubbling, looking like it's been there for weeks. A sock, so sticky it was smacked to the wall, and stayed there, stuck.

Andy soon came to the realization that although Sebastian and him looked and seemed a lot alike, there was something that drastically set the two apart. While Andy cared a lot about looking cool and being perceived a certain way, Sebastian actually did not give a shit. He found himself totally dumbfounded--and a little turned on.

And for the grand finale, as he turned around after getting the okay, and gazed at Sebastian, dressed in ripped up Star Wars pajama pants, the biggest near the crotch, although he didn't seem to notice, he looked at him, impressively bored.

"What?"

Andy said nothing, he only scoffed.

"Listen, I was joking back there, but if you're actually horny right now, there's a couch upstairs you can sleep on. I just didn't want you to have to sleep out in the rain."

Andy shakes his head. "No, I'm okay. You're just...wow, man," he exhales. "You're incredible."

"Oh, great," he rolls his eyes, "So this wasn't about sex at all. Now we're getting all romantic and shit? I swear..." Sebastian went on, being a real piece of shit--but Andy didn't take it personally.

He lights a cigarette from the table next to him, walks over, and sticks it in Sebastian's mouth. He naturally inhales and exhales smoke upwards, his eyes rolling back in pleasure.

He smiles, looking back at Andy between heavy eyes. "Mm...you know, you're starting to grow on me." He takes the cigarette between his fingers and walks past Andy to the bed against the wall. He puts the cigarette back in his mouth, and takes a real long time arranging himself under the covers. He sits back, arms behind his head, and exhales to the ceiling, looking at peace.

"You coming or what?" He says to Andy.

Andy's face lights up, and without even taking his fucking shoes off--the ones with the giant buckles and spikes--he jumps into bed next to him and gets underneath.

Sebastian glances over. "Those things are gonna kill me in my sleep," he says, but really, is too happy to care.


	4. Godfather Shit

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ruminating on his own self image, Andy attempts suicide but Sebastian stops him. Laying in bed, the two argue, then get hungry.

Andy was the first to wake up that morning. He laid on his side and gazed lovingly at Sebastian, who fell asleep with a lit cigarette in his mouth and managed to not burn the house down because his drool got to it first.

He marveled at this specimen of a man. He had the feeling that he had tried to model his whole life after him, and so horribly failed. His fans were crazy about him, and rightfully so, he mused, but at the same time, he felt they didn't love him for him. They loved him for his image. His sexy, sexy image and tight pants. His pert little ass fitted just right, his big blue eyes, piercing your soul--he found himself getting turned on by his own persona, and knew right then and there, there was a big problem.

If he was actually the man he said he was, he would be disgusted by the very sight of himself like any other rational human being, but the fact that he was stroking his fuckin chain right then and there, only went to show that he was attracted to someone else entirely--the man he had become. The man who was not himself.

Clearly a master at his craft, in only two seconds, Andy locates Sebastian's switchblade in his pocket, and unsheathes it, staring at his reflection in the blade.

Sebastian snorts awake from the sound and shoots up. The cigarette is magically lit. Andy is no longer phased by this shit. Still, he meets Sebastian's eyes in shock.

Sebastian swipes the knife from him forcefully and throws it far away from him. "What the hell? You emo fuck. What are you doing?" A dull thud emanates from the other side of the room where the knife impaled itself onto the wall. Sebastian looks over lazily. "Oh," he says, since it really won't leave much of a mark compared to the ten holes in the drywall scattered throughout the room he had punched through.

He turns back to face Andy.

"What's the deal, dude? It's like 11AM. It's too early for this shit. Can we at least have breakfast first before you go around doing that metaphorical shit? Fuck, man."

Andy furrows his brow, confused. He had his cigarette. Why was he being such a dick? "What's your deal, man? It was none of your business."

"Uh!" Sebastian turns his whole body now to face him. "You're in my fucking bed. Am I supposed to wake in a pool of blood? Godfather shit? Oh." Sebastian slowly smirks, "Was this about last night? Was I your first guy? Feeling insecure?"

"No..."

"Oh my god," Sebastian's eyes widen, "You were a virgin." Then his face goes sour. "God, you lost that to me? That's kind of sad, dude. I don't even care about you."

"No! For fuckssake, man. It's neither of those things. Ah, I can't talk to you about it," Andy yells, despite the fact that he was actually kind of a virgin. All that Jesus Christ shit--he wouldn't have been able to part the sea if it wasn't for being a LARPING, anime watching, computer chair ridden young man at heart despite all the leather.

Andy sits with his hands between his legs, slouching towards the mattress, looking lost. Sebastian kicks the covers down to the edge of the bed and sits against the wall with his arms on his knees so he is facing Andy. He squints his eyes at him. "So, what'll it be?"

"What?"

"What's your deal, man?"

Andy sighs and runs a hand through his black hair. From its roots, comes slime and a clump of loose hairs.

Sebastian retracts against the wall. "Are you kidding me? Have you been wearing a wig this whole time?"

Andy looks at him sadly, not knowing what to say because Sebastian is abusive as fuck and, like he said, it's only 11AM and he's exhausted.

"Gimmie that," Sebastian leans over and rips off Andy's wig, throwing it as far away from them as possible. It lands on the knife in the wall, and hangs there limply.

Sebastian cringes at Andy in his wig cap, looking like a 34 year old black woman who proudly didn't give a fuck, running to the corner store for some milk. He rips this off him too, and out his hair falls, black and bouncy, shaved on one side.

Andy hurriedly tries to hide himself, shoving his hands in front of his face and sides of his head. "No!" he yells, "I wish you didn't do that..."

Sebastian looks at him curiously, cocking his head. The irritation wipes from the half of his face that's visible. Gently, he takes both of Andy's arms in his and lowers them back into his lap. "You're afraid of being seen."

Andy looks down and back up again, embarrassed. He blushes. It's pretty.

"You're insecure. You hide your face so you can avoid things. If no one can see you, no one can judge you."

He leans in and moves the hair from Andy's face. His big blue eyes look to Sebastian for approval.

Sebastian then miraculously takes his other hand and brings it to his own face to move the hair away from his right eye. It has shrunk because of the lack of sunlight it has been getting, and there is a visible tan line despite the SPF 100 sunscreen he puts on everyday in hopes people might actually wonder if he is a vampire.

"I know how it feels to not want to be seen."

Andy smiles up bashfully, but looks confused at the same time. "It's a little weird to hear that from you."

"Why?"

"You're a little..." he hesitates, "overly confident..."

"Just say it," Sebastian retorts, "I'm a cunt."

Andy is taken aback. He looks at Sebastian, for the first time, in both his eyes, once again fooled by this man. He is all too self aware, something that didn't seem possible. With his inflated ego, he only thought Sebastian was arrogant--but now, he wondered if his self awareness only led even more to the conclusion that he was genuinely cool and not pretending.

"I disagree."

"Fuck off. I'm a dick, even my mother knows it. Speaking of--I'm hungry as fuck," he lets his hair drop back into his face, lets go of Andy, instantly ruining the moment, once again, with his ADD.

Andy frowns, but quickly jumps as Sebastian stands up on the bed, his crotch totally level with Andy's face, full boner. Andy looks up innocently. "He...he..." he says as if the sexual intercourse they had the night before never happened and Sebastian's hard-on was a potential first kiss.

"Morning wood. Happens every day, doesn't have anything to do with you being here." He jumps over Andy onto the floor. Andy once again is taken aback and sighs audibly.

So, this is how it's gonna be, he thought, Quick glimpses of his real self before he gets lost in another distraction. Moments killed momentarily...better stop getting my hopes up.


	5. The Relaxing Breakfast Intermission

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Andy meets Sebastian's mentally unstable parents and realizes where he gets it from. After a blown out of proportion reaction to Andy's question of Sebastian's real father, he realizes there's something fishy going on.

Sebastian opens the door for Andy, and he can't help but notice that the hole in his crotch grew overnight. Were his daily hard-on's the very thing that burst them open? And how long did he have those pants?

Looking down, Andy could see they were high waters, coming up to his mid-shin. His guess was that it had been at least ten years. He imagined Sebastian running downstairs to rip open his Christmas presents in the very same Star Wars pajamas he now tore open with his raging boners. 

"You coming?" Sebastian turned to Andy down the hallway, who remained behind him.

Andy stood still for just a few reasons. One: the kitchen was right around the corner and Sebastian was still fully erect. Two: he could only imagine how he himself looked, a guest in someone else's house, running mascara all over his face and chest, a ratchet wig, self harm wounds, still open--at least his pure leather outfit and skinny jeans made him look cool.

Sebastian noticed Andy's hurried gesture of concern. He smiled. "All leather, just like the cow you are. You look fine darling, let's go."

Before he had a chance to respond, Sebastian turned to walk away, already yelling, "THAT DOESN'T SMELL LIKE SUNNY-SIDE UP, THAT SMELLS LIKE SCRAMBLED, YOU BITCH!"

Andy braced himself before taking the next few steps into the kitchen.

A heavier woman stood at the stove, cigarette between her lips, rollers in her hair, and a hand supporting her back, clutched a pan. Eerily, she turned to them and smiled, specifically to Andy. How did she know?

"Whale 'ello love, ow' you doin? Me name's Robin, and you must beee..." she said, for some reason in an extremely thick Australian accent. "Number 72?"

Sebastian nodded. "Number 72."

Andy blinked.

"Auh," she breathed, "I've accepted luuuung ago: a boy 'as 'is needs. And if my son is gonah wack his knob to Brazzars on me couch at noon, there's nothin I can do to stop 'im."

Andy nods and tries to smile. His eye twitches.

Sebastian, meanwhile, was busy riling himself up in the corner again. "Mom," he shakes, "Where the fuck are my Flintstones gummies."

The situation continues to escalate as a large black man walks into the kitchen, newspaper under his arm. He walks over and kisses Robin, looking out of place due to his professional attire and demeanor. Only then does Andy start to look around at the mess he's walked into, just as Robin pours milk into her husband's coffee from a used cereal bowl, still half full with fruit loops. 

The sink full, the stove illuminated by the black tar smoke rising from the burners as toothbrushes and razors burn quietly, fallen and never picked back up, explaining all the smoke shadows on the walls and ceilings, which were, on top of that, yellowed from all the cigarette smoke. Hairballs all over the corners--and he never even saw a cat. Worst of all was the gigantic slab of meat on the counter, raw. It looked as if cut straight from the pig--or rather, a full halve of the pig, clean down the middle.

The black man took Andy by surprise as he appeared in front of him and took his hand. "Very nice to meet you, son. I'm Sebastian's step father, Demetrius."

"I exclusively date black mein," Robin chimed in for no reason at all. "Much beta in tha sack, ehehe, although ol' Demetrius might nut look 'et now, 'e's a freak when the lights arr off."

This confused Andy. "Then what about Sebastian's father?"

Demetrius dropped his full cup of coffee, shattering it on the tile. The spatula clanged on the floor. Sebastian stopped discreetly ripping into the raw meat with his teeth, clutching it with two hands away from his face, dripping with blood.

Demetrius smiled now, in the same way Robin had when he had first walked in. He realized then it was not a smile of warmth or friendliness, but one of sinister planning. "Oh. We don't mention Sebastian's father in this household." He still holds the air where his mug was.

"Oh," Andy said, "Sorry...I didn't mean anything by it. I was just curious."

Demetrius paused. "Uh huh," and then it was silent.

After everyone had shifted uncomfortably at least five times, Sebastian began yelling out of nowhere, like he remembered something. "Mom. Hurry up with those eggs before I snatch what's left of your fucking ovaries and eat those instead."

Andy breathed a sigh of relief, quietly thanking Sebastian for breaking the silence.

Demetrius laughed heartily. "Boys will be boys."

Robin meanwhile slide the eggs onto a plate, smiling through her cigarette, "'ere you go love. Eat up." Sebastian snatched it away from her, throwing the fork behind him where it impaled itself right into a family photo and began ravenously chowing down with only his face.

Andy first realized how quiet it was. Only seconds afterward, Sebastian silenced as well, holding his stomach.

"What...what did you put in that?" He looked up at his mother, who stood watching him, one hand on the counter, one at her hip smiling as Demetrius lovingly held her around the shoulder.

"Rat poison, ya cunt! Ahahah!" They roared laughing as Sebastian looked down, then up again in disbelief.

Soon, he was laughing along with them. "You sneaky fucks! If you wanted to kill me, you failed, I already built up an immunity from when I was a baby! Aha!" They laughed harder, Demetrius slapping his knee.

Andy was still there, watching.

He didn't know how to react, to Sebastian's parents attempting to kill him, to Sebastian's horrific eating habits, to the unsettling reaction from mention of Sebastian's mysterious father, to his mother's Australian accent.

He started having a panic attack.

Everyone stopped laughing, looking his way.

"Oh no," Sebastian moaned, "Not again, you little bitch. You know the drill, take it to the bathroom." He waved Andy away, and Andy, so desperate for any sort of direction, being in one of those submissive moods, went straight away--but not without seeing the framed photo on the wall where Sebastian's fork struck and landed.

He squinted as he walked past, and the world seemed to freeze into slow motion for those few seconds as he looked closer, seeing Sebastian, Robin, and what must have been Sebastian's father, standing behind the two sitting down, a hand on each of their shoulders, the fork right through his face.


	6. Golden Shower

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Andy starts to come to his senses...

Sebastian banged on the bathroom door with his entire arm at least twenty minutes later. "Open up, I gotta piss."

The lock clicks and Sebastian swings the door open, banging into Andy's head below, who lays in the fetal position.

"Ew," Sebastian says, already unbuckling his belt. "Don't lay on the floor, it's fucking gross in here." He is already peeing as he's walking to the toilet.

Andy stares ahead at the wall, glassy eyed. "It's okay. I only just caught about five STD's."

"That's hot." Sebastian says over his stream. "But that's not how it works. It's more like this--" Like a firehose, he projects his stream into Andy's mouth for half a second. Andy sputters and jumps up, wiping his mouth on his arm.

"That's it! I'VE HAD IT!"

The pee stops abruptly. Sebastian looks over his shoulder, pleasantly surprised. "Aw, does the widdle baby want me to hold it's hair while it throws up into the potty?"

Andy jumps to his feet, and like lightning, snatches Sebastian's dick in his grasp, looking him fiercely in the eyes.  
Now Sebastian is afraid. Frozen into place, he looks up into Andy's eyes.

"Listen, I've been trying hard to keep it together right now, and I don't know if you realize this, but I don't know where the fuck I am. Last thing I remember is fooling around with some fan--age is just a number, alright?!--and then I black out, walk on water apparently, then fall onto the beach where I was so fortunate to run into you! And now I'm just following you around, experiencing your boring fucking life in a place I've never heard of, like we're in some weird crossover fanfiction, and god, I miss my private jet. Even when I didn't need to go anywhere, I'd go hang out there just to take a shit to feel important, you know? And oh my god, my wife's probably so worried--" at that, Sebastian shoves him to the wall and kisses him as hard as he can. The whiplash is so strong that Andy's studded cuffs are embedded in the wall behind him.

It's sexy.

Sebastian slowly pulls away and Andy stares at him, wide-eyed. Sebastian stares at him, inches away from his face, bedroom eyes.

"Fuck your wife," he says, "Welcome to Stardew Valley, bitch."

At that, Andy stares off, past Sebastian, suddenly remembering everything leading up to the incident.

So there I was, on tour, just after a show. It went great. Did the usual set, "The End," "Legacy," "Fallen Angels," all that shit little girls wet their pants for, getting on my knees, ruining my throat from all the screaming, pulling my dick out a few times to give the people more of a show than they asked for but didn't know they needed. Ashley Purdy jerked me off this time, too. It wasn't gay, it was for the ladies. It was like two gay porn stars getting $500 each for a scene. Though, that whole fiasco got me wondering if I could've been a little gay. The rough anal later that night with Sebastian definitely confirmed it, but let's not get too ahead here.

So Ashley Purdy's tugging on my cock, and I don't think I'm getting hard from his hand necessarily, but from all the young ass I'm looking at in the audience. It's pretty much all girls, and some guys that look beta like Sebastian, all wearing that stupid fucking face paint I got on, like we're all one in the same, except they just look like they're in Halloween costumes. I'm the real deal.

Actually, I think I'm just getting off to myself. I'm just confused because there isn't a mirror in front of me like there usually is when I do this. Jake Pitts is next to us, doing one of his lame solos, I can't even tell which one since they all sound the same, all scales and one or two beginner techniques.

Anyway, I cum, the crowd goes wild. The security guards have all left at this point--you know, those blue collar type guys, can't stand this type of shit for some reason--so now it's just total anarchy. I forget where the cum goes--we always try to flail the thing around so we can get a nice even coating on everybody, just spreading the ol' seed, you know, but anyway, total anarchy. Us VansTour guys like to pride ourselves on our crazy mosh pits, but this was real; a whole other level. Like, the girls were taking chunks out of each other. Their arms. With teeth. Actual blood. I know I always did the whole fake blood bit, having it pour out of my mouth, but real blood made me faint.

They were still taking their bras off and throwing them around, which was nice--except they were using them to strangle each other. My semen sent them into a jealous rage. I did what any good idol would do and slinked off stage into my dressing room, where, of all people, my nemesis awaited me.

Dahvie Vanity.


	7. Cat Fight

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dahvie harasses Andy, then dumps a young groupie on him that he's had it with. Andy cheers her up, and encourages her to do normal, preteen girl things, rather than hang around with the likes of Dahvie again.

First of all, I walked into a smoke screen as I opened the door, waving my arms and coughing. When it cleared, there Dahvie was, laying on a settee, surrounded by a slew of preteen girls hanging off him. I wanted to yell "What the fuck?" but still couldn't catch my breath, so I just stared at him, bloodshot, while he smiled all sultry.

"Anderson. Nice performance you put on tonight..."

"Yeah," I coughed, "I bet you dug that, you perv."

"Actually, no. I'm not homosexual like you."

"I'm not a pedophile, like you."

"So you are gay?"

"Says who?"

"You didn't deny it."

"Fuck off, Dahvie. Why the fuck are you in my dressing room? Now it smells like cheap laced middle-school weed."

"Hey! These girls aren't that stupid. I was the one who laced it."

"Whuuu?" One girl moans, her head lolling as she lays on the floor, back on the sette where Dahvie is skewed.

"Now give her hair a little pull," he says to the girl sitting by his feet.

"You sick fuck. What do you want?"

He examines his nails for a long, long time, like they're so damn important. "You still have more fans than me," he finally says.

"Maybe don't steal other people's lyrics then?"

Dahvie leans forward, some vicious look in his red, colored contact eyes. "Those lyrics came to me in a dream before those fuckers ever put them to paper." He leans back again, slowly and satisfied.

I just stand there, still in the doorway because I don't want to be prosecuted for anything, staring at him. "Okay. So why the fuck are you here again?"

Dahvie gets up, like he's annoyed with the whole thing now. He takes two steps forward, stops, closes his eyes, and screams "UP!" The dozen girls all jump up and scramble towards the door. Still standing in place, Dahvie yells "Except you, Audrey!" A small, chubby looking, pale girl with a botched red dye job and layered hair riddled with split ends pauses in place, her hair covering her face as she looks down in shame. She wears a Soul Eater t-shirt, store bought ripped jeans, converse, and 300 silly bands around both arms alongside a "I love Boobies!" cuff.

Dahvie starts walking past her, circling her, looking down at her like some faggy drill sergeant. "What a terrible biographist. I bought you along so you could really capture me. I let you sit in on my motel escapades! And what did you do? What was that you did?"

She doesn't look up. "Threaten to call the cops--"

"Threaten to call the cops," he scoffs, "Do you want me to go to jail, Audrey? Do you know what happens to pretty boys like me in jail? Bad things, girl." He stops and looks down at her. "Do you want me to be raped? Is that what you're saying?"

"No, sir--"

"Cause that's what I'm hearing. That's what I'm hearing, Audrey!"

"Enough, Dahvie!" I have intervene. "She's like twelve, dude, cut it out."

"Oh," Dahvie smiles, tilting his head sinisterly, like he's some haunted robot, "If you like her so much, take her." He shoves her towards me, and she falls against my chest, where I have to catch her. I stand her back up, and she's already shoving her hair repeatedly behind her ears like insecure girls do.

"Let's see how you like it when you have to deal with her midnight depression calls! I'm not your therapist," he points at her, "I'm a fucking icon!" At that, he leaves, snapping his fingers in the air and all his groupies follow.

I take a step back from her. Don't want to be accused of anything. "You okay?"

She nods, still looking at the floor. I can't stand this type of shit, so I put my hand under her chin and lift it up. She shudders. I pull my hand away. "It's not like that! Jesus Christ, what did this guy do to you? Listen," I sit her down on the settee, and I still don't know how the fucking thing got there, like this was some goddamn hookah bar--"Young girls aren't supposed to sleep with their idols," I say to her sternly. I never thought I'd be doing this dad thing right after a concert. I expected to be balls-deep fucked up right now with my boys. "They're supposed to write weird fanfiction about them, k?" She nods.

I frown. "You nod too much. You don't have to do that in response to everything I say."

She nods again, tight lipped.

"Christ. Here, pretend I'm Dahvie," I say, "What would you want to really say to him right now?"

She stares at me, dumbfounded.

"You want to say, 'Fuck you Dahvie! Fucking monkey-ass lookin' perv, lyrically handicapped wench.' Go on, say it."

She's hesitating. "I'm not really allowed to curse--"

"But you're allowed to sext Dahvie Vanity? C'mon, say it."

She breathes in deeply, "Fucking small dicked swampy-ass botched tattoo job kid who got picked last in gym class lookin' faggot..."

I take it in. "Wow."

"Sorry," she mumbles.

"No," I get down on a knee and take her hands, "That was amazing. Now I want you to go home and write the smuttiest, most appalling fanfiction you can--" I wipe a tear from the corner of my eye, "And never stop."

She smiles and gives me a little nod, stands, and walks out, leaving me sitting in the middle of the floor.


	8. Masturbation Nation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Andy reminisces about his Hayley William's encounter and, bored, decides to masturbate. But in his heightened state, he decides to try something new. It doesn't end so well, if, at all...

I’m staring at the door after she left, just watching the furrie tail she had on disappear through the door crack.

I thought she could’ve looked like a younger Hayley Williams if she had grew her hair out, maybe lost a few pounds, lost the fucking tail, shaved the hairy upper lip...actually, never mind.

But seriously, Hayley Williams was a goddess--and so out of my league...I’d only talked to her in passing. She was on the VansTour with us, actually. Earlier, I had walked passed her, summoned up all my juices, and said hey. I smoothed back my hair suavely. It immediately spiked back up. Hairspray.

She was with the other guys in her band. Pricks. All smoking something that smelled like skunk. I had the sudden urge to call my mom to pick me up. She looked over at me and scoffed and god, I felt like an outcast in high school all over again. When the boys in gym class found out I was uncircumcised, it was all over for a week, asking me what flavor cheese my dick tasted like. “Parmesan? Swiss? MOZZARELLA?” They would taunt me. I’d cross my arms, “No…” I’d say, and start to cry. “This is why I want to shoot up the school,” I’d write later on in my journals under a sheet with a flashlight.

At that age, I was just going back and forth between my flashlight and fleshlight, which just consisted of a lotion filled glove--just making do with what I had. I was either journaling my angsty feelings, or masturbating them out, either way, getting them out of my system.

Anyway Hayley gives me that same sweaty axe-boy douchebag look after I said hi.

She inhales and smiles above her. “What’s that smell, is that...Gouda?” They all break out in laughter.

She finally looks over at me a minute later as I’m speechless. “...How do you know about that?”

“You still straight, Andy?”

I take a step back. “Wha…?”

“C’mon,” she elbows me, “That bussy’s too good to resist, eh?” She aggressively reaches out and grabs her guitarist’s ass. He giggles.

“So which one’s the woman in the relationship, you or Juliet?” She sneers, and the others howl. She pats my ass to let me know she’s kidding around.

I look down and rub my elbow. “Hayley, stoppp…” I moan, probably blushing too. “You’re so dominating.”

She takes another hit and laughs wholeheartedly. “How do you think I got to where I am? The shy girl shit is just an act.”

“You’re so cool,” I say without thinking, my eyes glazed over now.

She blows out smoke, “I know. Well we gotta get going, see ya around, queenie boy,” she slaps me on the ass, hard, and I tense up as she walks away with her band, her legs spread widely apart as she takes her steps, like she has gigantic balls.

So now I’m sitting in the middle of my dressing room, feeling all sentimental on one of those luxurious Persian rugs, living the high life, I guess, except my band never showed up.

I’m still reminiscing about Hayley. It makes me somewhat sexually frustrated. I’m not sure who should be on top. She’d never let me on top. Did I really want to be on the bottom though?

Anyway, I take my dick out. I sniff. The cheese of the day is cheddar. Losers! They were so off!

I start wanking. I stop. I look for the cocaine. Fuck, Ashley Purdy had it in his pocket. I don’t feel like seeing him again. Would be kinda awkward facing him after all that.

I lay down on the mysterious settee. I’m still revved up after the concert. Laying here jacking off without anything outrageous in the mix would just be plain pathetic.

I spy a plastic bag sticking out of one of the drawers--then I look down at my loosened belt.

Next thing I know I’m laying there with a plastic bag around my head, the belt tying it to my neck, and I’m rapidly losing oxygen.

It’s a little hard to get going, considering I just came on stage a few minutes ago, the poor intern still cleaning it up, but luckily my nut recharge period is a very narrow window.

I think about Hayley William’s lucious orange-red hair and black eyeliner--god, how does she get it so perfect? I think about her axe body spray, most potent around her crotch area. I think about her aggressive hands, all over me. I think about Ashley Purdy’s abs, even though I hate him. I think about the security guard’s bald heads in front of the stage, muscular, looking like thumbs. I liked men who looked like thumbs.

Poor guys got his with the cum the worst--all over their heads.

I think about it all--anything but my wife.

I go faster. Hayley Williams on top of me. Hayley Williams pegging me with a giant dildo. Hayley Williams spitting in my mouth. Hayley Williams choking me. Choking. I’m being choked. Air. Air.

Air.

Just as the light starts to leave my eyes, I let it happen, and as the best feeling in the world hits me with a pang in my hips, I quickly start to fade, and can’t find my way back.


	9. Paula Deen x Martha Stewart

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Elliot politely eavesdrops on Sebastian and Andy through the crack of Sebastian's closet. After so many hours of inhaling Sebastian's axe encrusted clothes, he begins to hallucinate the two as Paula Deen and Martha Stewart, his heros, while simultaneously becoming convinced he is R Kelly from Trapped in the Closet. After learning about what has happened, he decides to track down the girl Andy spoke to before he came to the Valley.

Pst.

Psssst!

Over here!

Remember me? It’s Elliot. I’ve been hiding away in Sebastian’s closet for the past fourteen hours, wide awake, trying to gather more information for the novel. I’ve been taking uppers (cocaine, methamphetamines) in order to stay awake.

Yes, I saw everything. There was actually another sex bit that occurred later that same night, but I chose not to include it because I was exhausted, in all honesty! I felt as if I was watching Tommy Wiseau’s The Room. Back to back sex scenes, right from the beginning.

It just made a man go insane!

As they slept, I peered through the door crack, keeping an eye to search for any sudden movements, any implications as to WHY THIS MAN PARTED THE SEA?? MY GOD, IT’S LIKE EVERYONE’S FORGOTTEN THAT EVER HAPPENED! ARE WE STILL NOT GOING TO ADDRESS THAT?

I felt as if I was being gaslit by the two; psychologically tortured with the erasure of what had happened--and the incessant anal sex.

Not to mention the smell of this very closet. I questioned why I was still here, 6AM, 36 years old, surrounded by crusty ejaculatory stained shirts (hung back up!), crusty ejaculatory socks, five rifles, two AK’s, and a gold-mine stash of Yu-Gi-Oh! playing cards, hidden away in a chest he didn’t want anyone to see.

Oho!

I must have looked so peculiar standing there, 6’4”, my sculpture-like face two inches from the door, in my colonial jacket, hair down to my waist. Usually my hair was always flowing, wind or not, but here, it was completely lifeless, contained in this axe-sauna. The boy washed his shirts with it! That’s why the semen stains remained, he just sprayed over them!

It was getting increasingly difficult to breathe, so alas, my brain’s way of coping with the fumes was to begin hallucinating.

So there I was, flirting with the idea of death, as I watched Sebastian change while Andy turned himself around to give him privacy like a gentleman. No wonder the boy didn’t want Andy seeing his ass! The amount of acne brought a tear to my eye.

But in my state, I began hallucinating him as Paula Deen, my hero. I nearly waltzed out to show off my dance move to her (I only had one--the two-step) like a peacock in heat.

I was sent into a trilogy consisting of Paula and I, rubbing semi-melted butter all over each other’s naked skin. When Martha Stewart walked in through the door, I nearly dropped my respectable demeanor all at once, except another hit of axe, this time from Sebastian a few feet away, snapped me out of it and into another fantasy, in which I was R Kelly from his Trapped in the Closet rap opera.

...I’m stretching and yawning in a bed that don’t belong to me. Then a voice yells “good morning darling” from the bathroom, then she comes out and kisses me and to my surprise she ain’t you...here I am quickly trying to put ON MY CLOHOHOHTHES.

And now Paula’s back, laying in bed next to Martha! They’re getting rather frisky, and my, I think I’m the happiest I’ve ever been. I’m not the kind, really, to do this kind of thing, but...I quietly unbuckle my belt.

Another whiff of axe blows through the closet crack, permanently waking me from my humiliating state. Paula and Martha rather quickly morph back into Sebastian and Andy.

I stand limply, looking down at myself in disbelief. Never have I ever...and like Andy, I have a mirror too--and with all respect to him, I’m a bit more classically handsome than the man! Still, I have refrained.

By god, what were these boys doing to me?

And now I’m in this darkest closet trying to figure out, how to get my crazy ass up out this houououse.

I admit, I was genuinely into the R Kelly bit. I was considering braiding my hair the way his was always done--like a white girl on her first trip to Jamaica. I whisper the rest of the lyrics to myself whilst I think.

Seeing that the sun is up, several hours have flown by since I arrived. Now it was morning, and I could hear Andy next door in the bathroom, explaining what had happened to him prior to meeting Sebastian.

I find myself taking an immediate liking to Hayley. Whomever this man was, I admired his take-charge attitude.

And that Dahvie Vanity, goodness!

But it was when Andy began talking about the young girl, Audrey, that I realized I really do be needing to get up out of this closet.

Apologies.

I must have gotten a glisten in my eyes just then--or maybe or was the axe fumes, but I’m telling you, I lit up! This Audrey would serve as the perfect subject to interview for my novel. She must have some of that insider information only groupies have. Has this man ever wore sockless Birkenstocks? Turned any breakroom tap water into wine? Ruminating on the idea of growing out his facial hair?

THIS MAN WAS THE SECOND COMING AND I WAS DETERMINED TO PROVE IT!

With the two in the bathroom, I stumble out of the closet, gasping for air, only to inhale more axe. I restrain myself from coughing, and, straightening up, smoothing out my jacket, I make for the window, draw one leg over the frame, then sit there, looking back at the room before I go.

I nod.

Yes, I might be semi-homeless, my house only half the size of Sebastian’s room, but I’d take my shit bucket over his semen riddled, mentally unstable drywall disaster any day.

I say a toast to Paula Deen, thanking her for my first erection in years! I felt myself entering into a new phase in life, one in which I felt unsteady. One in which I was unsure. One in which drag might be a possibility. One in which I may have to do some risky deeds for money.

I flirt with the idea of going undercover in Martha Stewart drag to gather inside info, while acknowledging it probably wouldn’t be at all necessary.

I swing my other leg over the window and jump.


	10. Elliott's Descent

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> As Elliott becomes transfixed by the case he's attempting to solve, he reveals himself to not be quite right in the head.

I kneel as if I'm praying in the middle of my once humble shack. My, if I could only have seen myself, if I hadn't smashed my mirror in frustration. I've slept in my coat for days, making it smell like the expensive cigars I treated myself to every day (one of the reasons I was still in poverty. I only had to have the best--buying a pack of a dozen for $500, which could in due go towards rent, but, oh, forget it!). The dirt under my fingernails was left alone. My diet consisted of bread and water, which I dug my fingernails into. I would've looked like the ghost of a fallen war soldier, except my hair was in the R Kelly braids I was so inspired by, hanging around my head like an Australian cork hat. At this point, I was so distracted I was unphased when constantly smacked in the face with them.

The pieces were finally coming together! I stand and spin around the room in awe at the many papers and photos, pinned to the wall and connected by dental floss.

I smile, a huge, sinister smile, one with bread stuck between my teeth. My, I was thinking of Daniel Day Lewis in The Crucible. The teeth that man had! Surely I would have looked the same if not for my braids! They compensated for it all. I stare into a spoon at my reflection. The braids were also bread encrusted and becoming untied. Yet it was hard to see much since the spoon was blackened from flame.

I make a mental note to remember to hide the drugs for the next time the police make their rounds. But then I remember, as if waking up from a bad dream, there's no police in Stardew Valley! That's why I can leave as many syringes laying around as I please! Even the ones scattered over the beach only get a few snide remarks. But oh, all I need do is put the blame on Linus, the humble homeless man, and no one suspects...

I've been doing so much research about The Other Side, I almost forgot where I was. The place Andy is from. The place the girl, Audrey, is too.

There is one last thing I must do.

I sit down at my computer chair and log on to Omegle.

Immediately I am shown a man's penis.

"My!" I say more to myself than him, "It's been awhile since I've done this." I adjust my reading glasses so I may see what I'm looking at better. "Circumsized oh, poor thing." He clicks off.

Now two young boys, about 11 each, stare into the screen. They both have dog tags and one an Elmo hat, the other, cookie monster.

I tut. "You boys aren't even old enough to have grown your hair long enough to reach emo standards!"

They laugh, and one says, in a voice constantly cracking, "HeY fAggoT. WhO aRRRE yOu suppoSED to Be? R KELLY? Hahaha. Old mAN!"

"Actually," I say, adjusting my reading glasses, "I am! What is so wrong with that?"

"Didn't he have like, sex slaves in his basement?"

"My," I gasp, "Haven't you boys learned to judge a man by the content of his character rather than by the color of his skin? Tut."

They stare at me with their jaws slacked. I've taught them a lesson they'll never forget!

"But he had sex slaves."

"Oh, I have to go." I click off, and I connect again to another user.

She pops up on screen, the blue light glowing on her greasy skin through the darkness of her room.

"I knew I'd find you here," I say, reclining.

Her eyes dart back and forth. I silently cringe at her frivolously split ends and poor dye job. I could barely handle being stuck in that stale closet of his, my hair stagnant for just a few hours. Hers, my, it would fly off in the wind! I wanted to tell her, but I thought I saw self harm scars on her wrists.

"Who are you?"

"My!" I proclaim, "Why are you doing that to yourself? If your hair is causing you that much disarray, I know a thing or two about conditioner..."

She gapes and begins to pull at her sleeves.

I think I may have just insulted her. Twice. In one sentence.

I decide then to introduce myself. "Hi, I'm Elliott. I've been looking for you."

She half smiles. "That's what they all say."

"You don't say?"

"No," She looks down abruptly. Did I insult her again? "They don't...usually they just click off." Oh, so she takes my question for sarcasm.

"Well, they're a bunch of dumb..." I try to think of a good insult, "Boys!"

She looks up, smiles, and brushes a hair behind her ear four times despite it being in place.

"And unlike them, I have looked far and wide for you. I've known you since you were a child. I know what you like, and what you don't like. I know your deepest desires."

She giggles, looking down again. "Really?"

My own smile fades. "Darling, I'm not by any means being sarcastic. This is how I always speak."

She frowns.

"Goodness, I'm not attempting a move on you. You're much too young for me, I'm much more interested in what you kids call 'cougars?'" I sigh, "Why do all you dyed hair girls have daddy issues?"

I get down to business, fluffing out my jacket. "I have your records. I know your social security number. And your porn history," I cringe, "Pirates, are you serious, darling? Anyway, you have information I desperately need."

She is silent, blinking. She looks as if she thinks of clicking off, but decides otherwise. Now, she is on guard. "What do you want to know?"

I push up my spectacles. They glint off the screen, like a proper anime.

"What do you know about a, Andy Biersack?"

She looks taken aback, then blinks, reorganizing herself.

"Um...I only met him once. He was like, really nice and stuff, but otherwise I never--"

"Admit it, you've been writing smut about him since the day you met."

She blinks rapidly. "Wha--how did you know?"

"So it's true!" I slam my hands on the desktop. "Now tell me," I lean forward, "What exactly did you write about?"

"I'm not telling you!" She cries.

Perhaps I'm being a bit too intense. I remind myself she's just a girl.

"But you must tell me. Audrey, darling, this is important."

"You know my name too?!"

"Honey, I know your SSN, naturally I know your name."

"Ugh!"

I take a deep breath. Living in a shack on the edge of town makes social interactions a bit awkward on the rare occasion they take place.

"I apologize. Audrey...this is very important. A few nights ago Andy was transported into a place called Stardew Valley, with no explanation--"

"Wait, what? What did you say?"

"Stardew Valley."

"The game?"

"Indeed."

"What..."

"My exact thoughts. Here's my theory: you wrote Andy into a smutty Stardew Valley crossover fanfiction, which, somehow, became reality. Let me ask, did you have him paired up with Sebastian?"

"Y-yes," she says, looking terrified.

"Did you have them make love on a beach at midnight?"

"...maybe."

"Audrey."

"Yes."

"And did you compare Andy to Jesus Christ?"

"Yes."

"Oh, of course!" I exclaim, "The girl who he stood up for and imparted guidance upon takes him to be a sort of Christ figure! It's all so rich! Audrey," I want to reach out and grab her shoulders, "It's all happened! Everything you wrote was true! And Andy, he will be the second coming all because you made him so!"

She sits back, looking as if she wanted to leave. "I don't know how to deal with this..."

"Vicariously!"

She is silent. I am silent.

"So you're that Elliott?" She asks.

"I suppose so, my dear." I wonder if I have anything to do with her pirate porn collection. I do not ask.

"I didn't recognize you with your hair like that..."

"Oh yes, it's a new thing I'm trying out. I'm thinking now of doing a rap opera."

She is completely silent.

"Well, I must be going, thank you for your time, Audrey."

"Oh, okay," she says in a tone that wanted me to stay, out of loneliness, despite the fact I must have ruined her night.

"You should be hearing about his disappearance in a few days." I click off.


	11. Those Goth Girls, Man...

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sebastian and Andy run into Abigail, a quirky goth girl and Sebastian's old crush whom is now dating his best friend, Sam. Andy begins to take a liking to her, which confuses him, since he thought he had settled on Sebastian. The two fight, and it gets Andy thinking.

Andy and Sebastian walk down the cobblestone street downtown, almost hand in hand.

Andy reaches for Sebastian's hand. Sebastian swats it away without even looking.

"Miss me with that gay shit," he says.

Andy blinks and for a moment is silent. "I'm so fucking confused."

The sun is shining, as it usually does, the birds are singing, as they always do, and Abigail does interpretive dance over a random headstone in the graveyard while yodeling like a banshee, as she usually does.

Sebastian stops in his tracks forty feet away. Andy walks ahead of him two more steps before stopping too, as he curiously looks at Sebastian's widened eyes.

He sighs. "She's so cool."

Andy looks back at Abigail. She wears a 80's looking leotard, a flower in her purple hair, has full red lips, and pale skin, like a Snow White who discovered Reddit. He watches as she grabs a fistful of dirt and shoves it in her mouth.

"Who is she?" Andy asks.

"That's Abigail," Sebastian doesn't take his eyes off her. "I've had a crush on her since middle school. She's just like, really quirky."

Andy sighs, now watching as she takes out a bottle of mustard and squirts it all over herself. "Embrace your inner sandwich," she almost sings, waving her arms in dance again.

"Real quirky, yeah," says Andy. "I just feel like I'm watching really weird porn."

"Yeah," Sebastian sighs, missing the sarcasm, "Really quirky...I think she has a tattoo of the phases of the moon on her foot. So hot."

"So," Andy says, trying to get to the point so they can move on, "Why aren't you with her?"

Sebastian tenses up, now deciding to look at Andy. "She's with my best friend."

Andy's eyes go wide. "Oh, man. That's rough."

"Yeah, no shit."

"No need to get bitchy."

"My best friend, Sam," Sebastian goes on ignoring Andy, looking again at Abigail, glassy eyed, "Stole her away from me. She was in the audience the last night our band played together. Just the two of us. We were trying out a Simon and Garfunkel thing. I had an orange afro at the time and everything."

Andy frowns. He can't picture it, no matter how hard he tries.

"And he had the audacity to wink at her during my rendition of Hello Darkness my Old Friend--I made it into a screamo song, if you're wondering, before you even started that shit--"

Of course, he just had to get an insult in, Andy thought.

"And before I know it, they're both having weird Buddhist tantra sex in my dressing room. Like, grunting like apes. Apparently that's part of it? 'Channeling your inner primate...'"

Andy squints, "It seems like she kinda says that about everything."

"They went so hard with the monkey shit that they started throwing their own shit at me when I walked in," Sebastian starts tearing up, "My own best friend threw his shit at me." A tear falls down his eye, and he runs into Andy's arms. Andy blinks, taken aback, but willingly embraces him, rubbing his back, his face in Sebastian's hair.

"Don't touch me!" Sebastian yells a moment later, pulling away.

Andy frowns. "Okay?"

Sebastian marches up to her, a completely different expression on his face. "Hey, Yoko," he sneers.

She looks up from between both her legs which rest over her shoulders. "Oh, hey Sebastian!" She smiles, "What did you call me?"

"Yoko. For breaking up the band."

"Oh, Sebastian," she sighs, lifting her legs over her head and back down to the ground. "I told you you were welcome to join us that night, but you were adamant about not wanting Sam to see your ass, remember?"

Sebastian blushes. "No..."

"Yeah! I was so prepared for it, too...I once sucked twenty dicks in a row. I can go for a lonnnng time."

Oh, Andy says to himself, She a freak though...

Sebastian frowns. "There aren't even that many guys living in Stardew Valley."

"You'd be surprised," She smiles.

"What does that even mean?"

"Hi," Andy says, stepping forward and interjecting. Abigail looks up and smiles at him, not noticing him prior. "I'm Andy. Andy Biersack. Maybe you know me. Maybe you don't. Lead singer of Black Veil Brides. No biggie."

"No, I don't. Are you guys like, a cover band or something?" she says, offering him her foot to shake. He does so reluctantly. She's so quirky!

"Um...no," he tries to hide his offense, "We're actually pretty serious. We write songs about depression, angst, loneliness, you know..."

She is still shaking his hand with her foot, still smiling. She pulls away. "Your friend's cute, Sebastian."

Cute? Thinks Andy. My music? CUTE?

"CUTE?" Yells Sebastian, "Oh sure, go ahead and hit on another one of my friends, you witch."

"'Friend?'" says Andy.

"Friend?" smiles Abigail, looking back and forth.

Sebastian has his hands in fists. He sighs terribly. He lights ten cigarettes and sucks on them all at once from stress.

Abigail scoffs. "I don't think so."

Sebastian whips around. "What makes you say that?"

"Did you see that? You didn't inhale those cigarettes, you sucked them."

"C'mon Andy," Sebastian turns and grabs Andy's arm like a mother to a child, "Let's go." He drags him away, towards the beach.

Andy looks back and smiles at Abigail, who smiles back, posing like a siren. "See ya," he waves. Abigail signals for him to call her. Andy doesn't catch it, since Sebastian pulls him along so violently. He mouths "What?" and she repeats herself, more straightforwardly this time, spreading her legs unnaturally wide into a split, but with her front facing him, laughing.

Reaching the bridge connecting the town to the beach, Sebastian whips Andy around to face him. "What the fuck was that?"

Andy smiles drunkenly, "She's really flexible." His face paint, which he's had on since he arrived, at this point in time, is smeared and runny. He looks insane.

"Whoa. Are you kidding me?" Sebastian says, taking an extremely stressed out puff of his cigarettes. "You like her. You fucking like her."

Andy steps back, surprising even himself. "Wha...? I've never liked a girl before..."

"Don't you have a wife? Anyway, stop it. She's mine."

"Well I can't exactly...wait, the fuck? Why are you jealous of her? You're with me!" Andy says, still forgetting about his wife, Juliet Simms.

"I am?" Sebastian challenges him.

Andy sighs sadly, "Sebastian..."

"Don't fucking say it."

"What are we?"

They are both silent.

"Well..." Sebastian starts, looking down and drawing on his cigarette. "We aren't exactly intimate..."

Andy furrows his brow. "What are you talking about? We've had sex like ten times."

"Yeah but our socks were on."

Andy pauses. "What?"

"It's not gay if the socks are on."

"Okay, Sebastian, whatever."

"No, listen," Sebastian raises his voice, pointing his cigarette directly at Andy, "I'm not committing to shit if you've got feelings for some girl."

Andy scoffs. "Same to you."

"Fine."

"Fine!"

They both cross their arms and turn away from each other, pettily.

George, the town's grouchy old man rolls by on his wheelchair in the distance. He pauses and looks over at the two. He grunts, "Faggots," and wheels away.

Andy takes a deep breath, turning back to Sebastian slowly. Sebastian looks up at him from the side.

"She's doing it again," Andy half smiles, "Yoko's breaking up the band again."

Sebastian looks up at the sky, taking a deep breath as well. "You're right. I forgot all about why I stopped dating women. Bitches be hoes."

Andy smiles crookedly. "That's the spirit!" He exclaims, more like it's a question; unconfidently.

Sebastian smiles up, smiles down, then leans over to kiss Andy on the mouth, holding it. He pulls away after a moment, lightning another cigarette.

"Goth girls man, they can really fuck you up."

"Yeah..." Andy agrees anxiously. In truth, he is still thinking about Abigail, and has a feeling he's going to have trouble sleeping tonight, his mind already racing, wondering what it means. Right when he was accepting the fact that he was gay, she had to come along.

Where the hell did these feelings come from?


	12. Abigail's OnlyFans

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Andy's newfound attraction towards women continues as he stumbles upon Abigail's OnlyFans account.

“Okay, but seriously dude, you’re married to a woman.”

Andy sighs heavily. “We married for power!”

“What...okay, whatever,” Sebastian shakes his head, kicking up dust as he walks alongside Andy. They walk home, and by this time, it’s already dark.

An older man in what appears to be a caveman's garb sits on the ground against a building, his grey hair plastered to his forehead, looking straight ahead, huddled.

“That’s Linus,” Sebastian mutters, “Watch this.”

“The homeless guy?” But Andy’s question is unanswered as Sebastian walks ahead of him and spits on Linus’s head.

“Get a job!”

Linus grunts. “Don’t you live in your mother’s basement?”

“SHUT UP!” Sebastian screams, his face immediately red with humiliation. “Let’s go,” he grabs Andy’s arm and leads him away, again, like a child.

A few paces away from Linus, Sebastian is back to normal, trying to sound suave, like he just gave Andy a big tour of the town. “Anyway, that’s Linus. If you ever get into any deep shit, just blame it on him.”

Andy didn’t respond. He stared ahead at the cobblestone path leading them back to Sebastian’s house. Sebastian’s last statement sounded like a bad omen. Why did he think something bad was going to happen? And why did Sebastian make it sound like he was going to be stuck here awhile?

Andy lays next to Sebastian that night in bed. The lights are already off. The half-a-pig carcass has made its way up to Sebastian’s room, half chewed into. Its shadow freaks Andy out in the darkness as he stares ahead.

He stares across the room out the window at the full moon and thinks about Abigail’s probable foot tattoo. Did she really have that? He wondered if she Twitch streamed, too. Collected teeth? Oh my god, could she have an OnlyFans?!

Andy quickly looks up OnlyFans on Sebastian’s phone, unlocking it with his left buttcheek. ‘It’s more unsuspecting that way,’ as Sebastian put.

Andy refrains from gasping as hundreds of thumbnails of Abigail pop up, many with Sam in them, with titles such as “Fucking my best friend’s girl,” and “Cheating with goth chick,” or the more unintelligible “Big tiddie goth slut boned by hentai jock twink fuck so good wet very wet mmm.”

Andy gets up, locking himself in the bathroom so he can click on a video. Stone faced, he watches as Abigail slaps her genitals with a skillet. Sam, who’s dick he sees before ever knowing his face, comes into frame.

For a brief second Andy thinks he’s Sebastian, his heart racing. But Sebastian’s dick wasn’t that big. It was Sam, dressed up as Sebastian in a tacky black wig.

The video was humiliating, as Abigail pegged Sam, pretending to be Sebastian, who sang, of all things, Black Veil Bride lyrics as he cried. It reminded Andy of their first time together.

Andy’s eyes went wide, and his dick went hard--but he tried to ignore that part.

Was this how people saw Sebastian?

“Ehhh! Careful Abigail! You’re leaning on my self harm scars!”

Andy turns off his phone, staring ahead at the wall, his pants at his ankles and his dick rapidly deflating.

He looks ahead in wonder, never realizing the bathroom wall was filled with pictures of Sebastian. He never recalled them being anywhere else in the house. They were all just stowed away, here, the only time you could see them being when you were taking a shit.

Andy pulls his pants up, shamefully, because he is looking at Sebastian as a baby, sitting in a diaper, looking over his shoulder at the camera, no idea he’s to grow up to be a little bitch.

Black Veil Bride lyrics? Andy thinks. Sebastian listens to Black Veil Brides? He wells up with emotion. He had no idea.

He goes into the bedroom, still semi-hard, but it doesn’t matter, and puts a hand gently on Sebastian’s shoulder to wake him.

On reflex, Sebastian spits in his face.

Andy closes his eyes and composes himself. “Really?”

“Sorry,” Sebastian sits up on an elbow. “I was dreaming about Abigail.” Then his face falls, realizing what he had just said.

Andy smiles sadly. “You didn’t tell me you listened to Black Veil Brides.”

“Oh,” Sebastian says, his face once again falling. It seems to Andy as if, because he had just woke up, he wasn’t able to carefully construct his own confidence, leaving him vulnerable. “Yeah. I used to. Not so much anymore.”

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

He shrugs. “I didn’t want to seem like an annoying fangirl.”

“Fangirl is a strong word.”

“Yeah,” Sebastian smiles sheepishly, “I was a big fan.”

“Not so much anymore?” Andy raises an eyebrow.

“Yeah, not since I realized you were such a bitch.” Sebastian smiles. The answer is no, he’s still a fan.

Andy blinks his eyes in disbelief. “Sebastian…” He leans forward and they kiss.

Then Sebastian frowns. “How did you know that?”

Andy freezes, still kneeling over the bed. “Um, just a guess.”

“No, no it wasn’t.” Sebastian retracts against the wall, “Are you talking to Abigail? Fuck!” He sits up, “I thought I saw you guys say something to each other when we were leaving!”

“No!” Andy waves his hands, “No, we weren’t--”

“Wow, dude. Seriously…” Up against the wall, Sebastian’s eyes actually start tearing, “Just like Sam! Are you trying to kill me right now? I actually fucking liked you.” He shakes his head, “Rockstars and their fucking groupies man.”

“Sebastian!” Andy yells, trying to snap him out of it. “Abigail and I never talked! Okay?”

“Then what?”

Andy sighs. “I looked at her OnlyFans.”

Sebastian’s face goes blank. “Oh.”

Silence. Andy didn’t want to admit to that, he really didn’t, but he didn’t have a choice, unless he wanted Sebastian to think he was going behind his back.

“She has an OnlyFans?” He says curiously, staring at the floor.

Andy breathes a subtle sigh of relief. His emo faggot had returned to life.

“Yeah.”

“Shit.”

Silence.

“What do you think?”

Andy nods. “She’s good at pegging.”

Sebastian squints. “Yeah, that’d be your favorite part, you fag.”

Andy sits back on the floor, relieved that Sebastian was so distracted by his crush having an OnlyFans that he wasn’t asking what any of this had to do with listening to BVB.

“Don’t look at any of it,” Andy interjects.

“Why?” Sebastian asks before his face quickly falls.

Andy says what they’re both thinking: “Sam butt.”

Sebastian sighs heavily.

“Why are you jealous? You’re with me,” Andy says with minimal vigor.

Both of them look off into the dark corners of the room, lost in thought and confusion. Sebastian thinks of his crush with his best friend, all over the internet, while Andy’s struggle is a little more complicated.

He’s both jealous of Sebastian’s jealousy for someone else, while simultaneously wondering why he’s still thinking about her, too.

She looked like the goddamn girl from Danny Phantom--it was like a dream come true.

He never knew this side of himself--straight Andy (his wife didn’t count). It was like this was suddenly dropped on his shoulders--this new discovery for girls. Why was this happening? All of the sudden?

As he sat there, daydreaming, his mind suddenly wandered to Audrey, the girl Dahvie Vanity thrust upon him in his dressing room--and as soon as it did, his mind suddenly exploded with infatuation.

Who was she?


	13. Robert Pattinson's Return

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Audrey realizes that she holds Andy's fate completely in her hands.

Audrey sits, pudgy, slumped at her desk, staring at the computer screen.

Facebook.

She kinda thought Mark Zuckerberg was cute--she liked android-looking guys. Also she was thirteen and liked anything with a semblance to men. Although the boys in school made fun of anyone who ate a banana in the lunchroom anymore, she genuinely found herself blushing anytime she looked at one. Her parents were beginning to think she was sexually abused at the breakfast table, and asked her to “show them on the Dahvie Vanity doll” which she most definitely owned, prompting her into silence, because of the irony.

But someone like Andy Beirsack was incomprehensibly attractive. And now, his picture was all over the internet.

“MISSING: LEAD SINGER OF BLACK VEIL BRIDES. LAST SEEN A WEEK AGO.” The picture that was most frequently used was an oddly sexy screen capture from the In The End music video of Andy smiling into the camera, arms outspread, shirt all the way open down to his V-shaped hip bones. 

On the YouTube trending page at number two--right after the latest David Dobrik vlog with John Stamos--was an hour long video of Juliet Simms crying at her desk, speaking into the camera, begging the BVB Army to find her husband, asking the world if it was because of something she did, then instead of ending it right there, going on to talk about all her “sins” that might have been the issue in their relationship.

“Maybe it’s because...because I asked him if he wanted to try pegging...maybe because I tried playing with his nipples the other night and--and I know some guys don’t like that but I wanted to try it anyway...or maybe because I called him out on the gay porn stash I found at the bottom of his sock drawer...I don’t think it means anything though, ahahah,” she wipes a layer of snot from her upper lip.

Audrey watches on quietly. Usually, she’d be all, “That bitch,” but right now, didn’t feel the need. As Audrey scrolled through all the hysteria, she felt perfectly calm, knowing Andy’s fate was entirely in her hands.

After Elliot told her that Andy disappeared, somehow, into the fanfiction world she wrote him in to, she opened the fanfiction google document and stared at the blank page in front of her.

Black Veil Brides’ Knives and Pens plays through her tinny laptop speakers. She still insists on wearing a furry tail, which she uncomfortably sits on. Stardew Valley still runs in the background. She clicks.

Her avatar stands in her farmhouse, Sebastian, her virtual husband, stands in the kitchen, their two children, Andy and Ashley, running around. She clicks on Sebastian, 8-bit, dressed in all black with half his hair in his face.

“You know...I’m not the kinda guy to settle down like this, but I’m really happy being here with you.”

Audrey smiles stupidly behind the screen. She clicks again. “Hey, I’m gonna go for a walk. Need some time to myself today--I love you.”

Click.

“Hey, I couldn’t sleep, so I made some coffee. Want some? I love you.”

She gets up and changes her underwear.

When she sits back down, she begins to type.

“Sebastian fucks Andy ten times before breakfast. Andy buys Sebastian flowers and creates a trail of rose petals to the bed. It’s romantic and cute. But then Edward from Twilight shows up and a big love triangle starts. Then Jacob shows up. Then they all have an orgy. Meanwhile Andy comes to his senses and realizes he’s in love with Audrey from the Vans Tours concert. He thinks she’s so pretty and perfect. He comes back to America to find her and divorce his stupid fucking ugly wife, Juliet Simms.”

She sits back in her computer chair, panting. One, because it’s pretty hard to type when you have 50 silly bands on each arm, and two, Andy was totally right: fanfiction is better than sex.

She stares at one line in particular: “...Andy comes to his senses and realizes he’s in love with Audrey…”

She is no longer panting, but her breath is still audible because she’s kinda a mouth breathing weeb. She smiles.

He said it all comes true, doesn’t it?


	14. The Alcoholics Anonymous Intermission

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Andy discovers alcohol. He finds himself in the midst of Audrey's fever dream, without realizing it.

So there's Andy and Sebastian, in Sebastian's room, 8AM, on their tenth fuck. Sebastian is behind Andy, thrusting away exhaustedly, almost crying.

"Why are we doing this?"

Andy has a hand to his sweaty forehead, eyes closed, cringing. "I don't even know."

"We've been up since 3 AM. And my nut-recharge period isn't this narrow. Shit hurts."

"You can't be in more pain than me. I haven't even had a chance to shit."

"I am so sick of looking at your ass."

"I am so sick."

"Don't even talk."

They both sigh. Both of them have been experiencing the overwhelming urge to continuously fuck and have no clue why.

Sebastian cums.

"EH! Eh...ah...eh..."

Andy sighs. "Can you not cum like such a girl? I thought I was gay."

Sebastian pushes Andy away from him when he's done. "The fucking flower petal trail sure was." 

"I don't even know why I did that. It's completely out of my character." He turns his head to look at the rose petals covering the bed and floor, trampled over. 

"Maybe you're just experiencing post-nut clarity."

"You didn't even make me cum once."

"Now you sound like a girl," Sebastian says, pulling on his pants. "Hey..." he realizes. "I think..."

Andy turns around to sit on the bed, looking at him in disbelief. "You don't feel it either?"

"I think I'm all juiced out."

"You didn't have to say it like that."

Sebastian sighs, relieved. "Ten times exactly." 

Andy does the same, then he stares ahead into space. "What the fuck was that?"

Sebastian shakes his head, wide eyed. "I have no idea. The last time something like that happened to me was after I had eight Red Bulls and discovered footjobs."

Andy blinks. "That didn't answer my question."

Sebastian slips on one of the many cum filled shirts around him on the floor. Andy observes that he had socks on the entire morning. He sighs.

Sebastian, after having missed about five cigarette breaks, lights three cigars, putting one in his mouth and two in his ears.

"Are you gonna offer me one?" Asks Andy.

Sebastian just scoffs.

Andy continues to sit there, butt naked and tattooed, his mind finally off sex and back onto reality, which hit him exceptionally hard right then after being distracted for so long. The sun was finally up, Sebastian stood at his computer, starting up another game of minesweeper. It was clear Andy was not involved in the plans.

He stands up and dresses, putting on the leather pants that had shrunk from the rain, now up to his mid-calf, his leather jacket, also shrunken and up to his elbows, and considers his cuffs, missing half their spikes which are still impaled in Sebastian's bathroom wall. He puts them on sadly, feeling like a broken man. When he looks in the mirror, his face paint is now so smudged he looks as if he could be mistaken for wearing blackface.

He is too worn out to wipe it off.

"Hey," says Andy, "I think I'm gonna go for a walk. I just need some time to think."

"Now you're starting to sound like me. Alright, have fun with your little fag-walk."

Andy ignores him, even more intent on getting the fuck out of here if it meant he was starting to sound like Sebastian. He seriously felt like the walls were closing in around him, as he saw the days here as being dull and endless, with no way out for him.

Andy walks downstairs, and heading down the hallway towards the front door, passes the living room where Demetrius reads the morning paper on a chair. Andy nods to him.

Demetrius stares at him, dumbfounded. "Very classy, Andy."

Andy puts his head down, feeling as if he might cry. He knows his outfit was a disaster--Demetrius didn't have to rub it in.

Except he forgot to rub the black off his face.

Andy walks on outside. Most people aren't out. He sees Abigail at a distance, doing weird yoga, breathing in, and screaming out, at the top of a tree like a rabid bird.

He might have returned her mating call right then and there if it didn't mean being his eleventh fuck of the day. 

He was angsty enough to do something fucking stupid.

He walks into Stardrop Saloon, the Valley's bar, weakly opening the swinging doors, making a pathetic entrance. Nobody cheers for him, like he is used to. He would usually just whip out his dong to get a more powerful round of applause, but he knew that if he did that here, it would have the opposite effect.

What kind of mad world was this?

He sits at the bar. "Hit me," he says to Gus, the tender.

"What can I get you?"

"Hit me."

Gus narrows his eyes. "Have you ever been to a bar before, son?"

"No, but I know that's what people in the movies say."

Gus nods. "I'll get you a gin and tonic. How's that sound?"

"Like a drink."

Gus rolls his eyes and walks off.

Andy looks to his right as he hears a man at the other end of the bar snort. It's Shane, the town's drunk. Andy takes a good hard look at the man, a five o'clock shadow three times over, purple hair, and a hoodie.

Andy scoots over to him, as he's the only other person inside. He arranges himself, one elbow leaning on the bar, looking back and forth, nodding at all the non-existent customers. "So what are you in for?" Andy asks.

Shane just notices Andy, his head still lolling. "Whu?"

Andy really doesn't know what the fuck he's doing.

Gus comes over, sliding the gin and tonic to Andy. He repeats himself to Shane. "I said what're you in for?"

Gus shakes his head. "You have how many tattoos but you've never been to a bar before?" He says, sounding reminiscent of Sebastian's comment when Andy panicked over the idea of smoking a cigarette.

Andy doesn't know what to say. He looks between Shane and Gus, then to his drink, which he downs all at once out of stress.

Gus nods. "See, now you got the hang of it." He walks off.

Andy begins to sob, looking to Shane. "Have you ever tried asphyxiation while you jerked off?"

"No...I just use socks."

"Well never do it. It ruined my fucking life."

"Not if you do it right, I heard..."

"Well see, that's the thing," Andy says, leaning forward, sounding like a frazzled scientist, "I did. I did it too well. And now I'm in another fucking dimension. I was famous, man! I had a private jet! Now look at me."

"You're in blackface."

Andy stares ahead. "Oh shit. That's why Demetrius..." he trails off. "HIT ME!" Gus promptly brings Andy another drink, which he downs all at once again.

"Bleh," he says, "Tastes like nail-polish remover."

"It's vodka," Gus says.

"What's that?"

Gus frowns, realizing how easy it would be for him to just kill Andy right now. He could hand him anything and he'd drink it.

"Anyways, I think I'm falling in love, but also, I hate this fucking guy. But I have no one else. Actually I think I have a wife back home, but you know, it was just because of an image thing that we married--"

"Mmm, does she feel that way?" Shane says, side-eyeing him, having fun playing therapist now.

"Hm, I never really thought about that. Guess it doesn't really matter. All I want to do right now is take a shit in my private jet and feel important."

"The bathroom's right over there," Gus points.

"Screw you, man."

Gus walks off again.

"I'm too famous for this shit."

"Who are you?" Shane asks.

Oh, does he love being asked that question. "Andy Beirsack, Black Veil Brides," followed by the "No biggie."

Shane shrugs. "Never heard of 'em."

Andy sighs, "Hit me..."

"We're closing up now," says Gus.

"Where do you keep coming from?"

"I work here."

Andy sighs. "Can you give me something for the road?"

"You mean, to drive?"

"No, so I can pass out on the beach."

"Fine by me, what'd you think of that vodka?"

"Tastes like shit but gets the job done."

"Exactly," Gus hands him an entire bottle. "On me."

"Seriously? Wow, thanks man. You're awesome. A real pal." Andy has no idea Gus is just trying to manufacture more people like Shane, to keep them coming back.

Andy stumbles out of the Saloon doors, grasping the vodka bottle by its neck, taking a swig, then making a face. "Fuck. I thought it was easy to be an alcoholic..."

He slowly makes his way to the beach. It's only noon.


	15. Audrey's Fever Dream

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Robert Pattison stumbles into Stardew Valley with a similar fate to Andy. And just like Andy, he has beach sex almost immediately after arriving. Elliot takes notes.

Standing on the bridge connecting the town to the beach, Andy takes a deep breath, breathing in the salty air of the stream. Looking around, he takes in the beauty. The colorful houses, the green grass and flowers, the bright cobblestone...Linus going through the trash...and for a moment, just a moment, can see himself living here. Quickly he snaps out of it, telling himself not to become complacent--that he doesn’t belong here.

He doesn’t belong here, but he can’t leave. Andy begins to sob again. It is so quiet, he thinks the whole valley might hear him.

He looks up, puzzled at the emptiness of the town today. A dragonfly flies past his field of vision, and he looks at it cross-eyed, helpless, like it might take him away. When his eyes refocus, he sees someone in the distance, peering at him behind a tree.

But just like that, he ducks behind it again and is gone.

All he could capture was a pale, tall, figure with brown hair.

Andy could swear he saw him sparkling.

He blinks, putting it out of his head. Probably just some lost hiker taking a piss. That, or he was just way too drunk. That gin and tonic was really hitting him.

Andy reaches the beach, sand crunching lightly under his Doc Martens. They have red laces, just like the Nazis.

He is completely alone.

He drops to his knees on the edge of the sea, looks out at what he once parted, and like he’s in a terrible soap opera, grabs two fistfulls of sand, watching it seep through his fingers, two inches from his face.

“WHY!” He yells, then coughs, “I mean...POR QUE???”

He stands, looking out at the horizon where nothing else lay, unwilling to be patient any longer, unwilling to try to understand. He just wanted to go home.

He was sick to death of bottoming!

Suddenly, he finds the sun obscuring his vision. He squints, putting a hand to his face, when at the same time, a vulture begins pummeling towards him, like an eclipse.

It thinks he is fucking dead because of how terrible he smells.

Also the vulture isn’t a fan of blackface. That’s why it’s head is bald. This is a little known fact about vultures.

Andy looks up, confused, and instead of moving from the giant thing hurtling towards him, tries to figure out what the giant thing hurtling towards him could be.

Twenty, ten feet away, and Andy’s eyes go wide.

That is the most magnificently emo creature he has ever seen!

Ummm, new album cover much?

Within two feet, and he can feel the wind from it’s gigantic wings, and the stench of it’s last meal. 

He closes his eyes.

They immediately shoot back open as something pushes against his chest, and simultaneously, the vulture cries out.

A man--THE man from behind the tree kneels in front of Andy, a hand to his chest, and the other hand still outstretched, blocking the vulture, who now lays on the ground, paralyzed.

The man is intensely looking directly into Andy’s eyes, inches away from his face. For a split second Andy thinks: what kind of man could look so sultry at such an inappropriate moment?

It is Robert Pattinson.

“Oh my god,” says Andy, “You saved me.”

“Hey,” Robert Pattinson says, “You’re welcome.”

Andy smacks his dry lips. “This reminds me of some movie scene, but I can’t remember which one…”

Robert’s smile fades.

“Umm...maybe, Vampires Suck? The parody?”

“No, you imbecile. Twilight. Twi-light.”

“Oh, shit. The one with all the BDSM?”

“That’s Fifty Shades of Grey,” Robert sighs, his patience waning.

“Ohhh, wait, I know what you mean--the one with Robert...ROBERT PATTINSON?”

“Uh huh,” Robert Pattinson gives Andy a tight lipped smile.

“Oh my god,” Andy says, holding his head and sitting back. Robert continues to kneel, watching him intently. “How many goddamn crossovers are we gonna have? Wait,” Andy says hurriedly, grabbing Robert’s semi-opened oxford collar and looking desperately into his face. “How did you get here? Do you know a way out?”

“No, I don’t--but it’s okay. This is paradise,” he looks out to the sea, framed by palm trees.

“Paradise?” Andy says, scrambling among the sand. “What the hell makes you say that?”

Robert turns back to him in slow motion, bedroom eyes, the warm breeze blowing his hair, and Andy suddenly gets what he means. “I’m Robert Pattinson and I’m wearing a semi-opened oxford.”

Andy relaxes, “Yeah...that’s true,” he says like he’s drunk.

“And you’re Andy Biersack of Black Veil Brides,” Robert smiles.

Andy lights up, “You know who I am?”

“Big fan.”

“Oh my god, seriously? Dude...” He takes a swig of the vodka still in his grasp.

Robert raises his eyebrows at the bottle. “Not going to offer me some?”

And just like Sebastian when Andy asked him for a cigarette, says “Nah.”

“Oh.” Robert goes silent as Andy takes another swig.

Andy stares ahead at the sea, contemplating as he takes yet another swig. “Since when do vultures fucking pummel?”

Robert sighs, annoyed. He puts a hand to Andy’s thigh. “Listen, can we just get to the point?”

Andy looks at him curiously. “What point?”

Robert furrows his brow. “Isn’t this Fire Island?”

Andy frowns. “No...this is Stardew Valley.”

“Where in the ever living hell is that?”

Andy shrugs. “Beats me.”

Robert looks away at the ground. “You mean…?” He looks up once again at Andy, wide-eyed. “I’m stuck here?”

Andy’s face falls as he remembers back to when he first came here, and he was in Robert’s shoes. “That’s what I’m trying to figure out…”

“But...but…” His eyes search the ground, manic, “My fans. The new Batman. My family…” He inhales, “Sex,” he exhales, “SEX!”

“Wow, you’re actually just as horny in real life as you are in the movies.”

“But, I’m not gay, am I?” He asks the abyss.

“Hey man,” Andy puts a hand to his shoulder, “Here, it’s like prison. The gay is temporary.”

“Okay,” Robert seems to relax.

“Wait, I thought you were here because you thought it was Fire Island.”

Robert, just as confused, takes the vodka out of Andy’s hand and downs some himself. “What was that you were saying about Fifty Shades of Grey?”

“Oh, I don’t know. I’m not really the kinky type.”

“Really? You’re wearing spiked cuffs on both legs and arms but you aren’t kinky?”

“It’s just an image thing--you wouldn’t get it.”

“Uh...did you forget who you’re talking to?”

“It’s just a really complex thing.”

“You certainly don't look like you put too much into your image these days.”

“Oh yeah? Well--” Andy tries to think of an insult as he looks Robert up and down in his crushed red velvet suit and manicured eyebrows.

“I literally just came from the red carpet.”

“Yeah...you look great, man.” Andy sighs, blushing beneath the blackface.

Robert smiles at him. He leans forward, cupping some sea water on his palms, and rubs it over Andy’s face, washing away the black makeup. “I know you’re blushing under there.”

Andy blushes harder, visibly.

“It’s just temporary, right?” Robert smirks, leaning in.

They kiss.

Andy pulls away. “Wait…”

Robert stares at him, cross eyed, two inches away.

“I’m gonna be honest with you man. I want this, I really do, but I’ve already had sex ten times today--”

“Christ. It’s only 10 AM--”

“Exactly. Each time, I was taking it up the ass. Are you...clean?”

“Oh love,” says Robert. “Something most people don’t know about me is that I film with a twelve inch buttplug up my arse every day. I’m plenty stretched out.”

Andy lets out a sigh of relief. “You’re amazing.” He falls into Robert, kissing him again.

Andy pulls away again after several minutes. “Can...can you do the, uh, vampire thing…?”

“So you are kinky,” Robert purrs, kissing Andy again, slowly making his way down to his neck, biting down.

Andy lights up instantly. “Oh, I’m ready for round eleven!” And like that, they’re rolling around in the sand, right in public, fifty feet from Elliot’s shack.


End file.
